


Better than Expected.

by BarPurple



Series: Mollcroft for the win [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, First Dates, Nervousness, Pre-Series, Prompt Fic, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his unexpected meeting with Doctor Molly Hooper, Mycroft finds himself dropping by St Barts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DanannB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanannB/gifts).



> DanannB left me this prompt on An Unexpected Meeting.  
> Went a bit off track, but the general idea is there, I think.
> 
> "I really adore Mollcroft, can I ask for maybe a follow up chapter (if you're interested, of course)? Molly realizes the lab equipment she is ecstatic about and assumed was from administration, is actually from Mycroft when he visits the lab to check on the items. He finds Molly's anger at the realization so adorable he invites her to dinner. Surprised and off kilter, she agrees. But then spends the rest of the day and date on her guard assuming it's more attempts to manipulate her. Bonus points if Sherlock somehow adds fuel to her fears. :)"

Three weeks after his first encounter with Doctor Molly Hooper Mycroft found himself being driven to St Barts. He briefly tried to tell himself this was simply to check on the installation of the lab equipment, but shook the untruth away. If that was the case he wouldn’t have made sure that Sherlock was working a case south of the river. He was willing to admit that he was intrigued by Molly. 

Molly greeted him with a professional nod and a small smile.

“Hello Mr Holmes. Sherlock isn’t here right now, but I expect you know that already.”

“Quite, he’s charging around in South London adding to Detective Lestrade’s growing number of grey hairs.”

Molly’s chuckle made him smile in return. Observing the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy made Mycroft feel awkward. He cleared his throat and tried to regain control of his emotions.

“The reason I dropped by was to check on the new lab equipment. Does everything meet with your approval Doctor Hooper?”

Her eyes narrowed and a small crease developed between her brows. The slight tension made Mycroft prepare in case another slap was heading his way. 

“You’re the anonymous donor?”

Her voice gave nothing away; nothing at all, how wonderful and yet disconcerting. Mycroft stared at the handle of his umbrella. A simple tell feigning nervousness or doubt that he normally affected, he was rather annoyed and surprised to find his nerves were genuine. This was all rather strange.

“It was suggested to me that you may perceive my donation as an attempt at indirect coercion. This is the first opportunity I have had to assure you that this is not the case. I simply saw a way to make your professional relationship with my brother easier.”

Why had he stressed ‘professional’? 

Molly face shifted from cautious suspicion to shyly happy. 

“Sherlock not ranting about lens alignment has been rather nice. Thank you.”

Mycroft felt a small surge of pride that instantly made him want to beat himself with his own brolly. He had fair idea as to why he gave a damn about the good opinion of Molly Hooper. It wasn’t an entirely unwelcome sensation, but he wasn’t used to uncertainties and all his powers of observation and deduction were useless in the presence of this petite pathologist. Silence fell between them and stretched to the point of awkwardly uncomfortable.

“I finish at two today. You could join me for lunch afterwards. If you’re not busy, I mean.”

Mycroft watched a flush of colour rise on Molly’s face and thought it was adorable. Oh dear, he was a little smitten, wasn’t he?

“Would this lunch be an appropriate setting to enquire after my brother’s well-being like a normal person?”

He cringed inwardly, why had he said that? Why had he made a possible date sound like nothing more than a business meeting?

Molly glanced down at her hands, which were fiddling with the hem of her jumper. 

“Sure. We can talk about Sherlock, and other things, maybe?”

She was biting at her bottom lip as she tore her qaze away from her hands and looked him in the eye. Mycroft saw the glimmer of hope fade away and kicked himself for the look of shock on his own face that had caused her to think he didn’t want her stumbling advance.

Hos long engrained habit of reserved self-control prevented him from reaching across and touching her hand, but he did rapidly say;

“That sounds wonderful. The lunch, with you. I’m sure we can find more interesting topics than my brother to discuss.”

The concern that he had fluffed his words evaporated in the sunshine of her warm smile. He cleared his throat as he felt a blush rise on his own face.

“Shall I meet you out front just after two?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock destroys Molly's good mood.

Sherlock arrived at St Bart’s half an hour before the end of Molly’s shift. He gave her one of his trademark rapid glances that somehow let him see far more than he had any right too.

“Going on a date, Molly?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Bad idea. Older man trying to use you to make himself feel better. Likes the idea of a younger girlfriend, but still concerned enough with appearances to choose a safe frumpy option. Doesn’t reek too badly of midlife crisis if he’s seen with you on his arm. You are a respected professional after all. Still, I suppose you could take him for a few good gifts to make up for the Viagra fuelled shagging.”

Molly stared open mouthed at Sherlock. Every time she thought she was getting used to his bluntness and downright mean rudeness he upped the ante by being even more vicious.

“For God’s sake Sherlock! I’m not some gold digging scarlet woman. Its a first date; a first lunch date. I happen to like Myc… my date and so far he likes me I think.”

Sherlock’s head whipped away from the microscope at her verbal stumble. He frowned and then his eyes widen in shock.

“No. Oh no. Mycroft! You’re going on a date with my brother?”

Sherlock spat the familial term with more disgust than Molly would have thought possible.

“Oh this is a new low even for him.”

He turned back to the microscope apparently too appalled to continue even looking at Molly. She shuffled away full of doubt, her self-worth at rock bottom.  
She wasn’t crying as she reached to locker room to wash up and change. Earlier today she’d been glad she’d brought a fresh set of clothes in this morning. Of course, she’d not been expecting to be going on a date. When she’d packed them this morning it had been because she knew she had to do Miss Willemsen’s autopsy; the poor girl had drowned and floaters were never pleasant to deal with. 

The clean clothes had been part of the reason she’d been brave enough to suggest lunch to Mycroft. The fact she could get changed and rid herself of the clinging smell of decomposition had felt like fortune was smiling on her just a little bit. Now Sherlock’s words had washed away any glimmer of hope that this was a good idea. What the hell had she been thinking asking Mycroft to lunch? He was all sharp, smart suits and she was pleased that she had a rainbow jumper and a pair of cords to change into. She knew her fashion sense could be charitably described as quirky, but Sherlock was right she was frumpy, totally lacking in style. The only reason Mycroft would be seen with her was to get the information he wanted about his brother. For a moment she cursed her pride, she should have just taken his bloody money and spared herself any foolish notions about Mycroft.

Well, even if this was a business meeting rather than a date, Molly’s manners wouldn’t let her stand him up. She sighed at her reflection and wondered if there were classes she could take to stop being such a nice person.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In spite of Sherlock's attempted sabotage, Mycroft and Molly go on their date.

A little after two o’clock saw Mycroft Holmes leaning nonchalantly on his umbrella outside the front entrance to St Barts. He’d sent his car away and booked a table at a small Italian restaurant within walking distance of the hospital. He hadn’t wanted to remind Molly of their first meeting by needing to travel by car. The instant he spotted her walking out of the building he knew that something was wrong. Something had upset her, or much more likely someone. He gripped his brolly handle tightly and let images of throttling his little brother dance through his mind. He wondered, not for the first time, if Sherlock had some super power to poison and destroy anything good that he came into contact with. It was a fanciful thought, but frequently it did appear to be the only viable explanation for Sherlock’s antagonistic nature.

He smiled as Molly stopped in front of him, but any greeting withered and died on his lips as she looked sadly at him.

“Sherlock is fine. Well, he’s being rude and arrogant and driving the staff crazy, but that is fine for him, I guess. There’s no sign that I can see that he’s using again.”

Mycroft was taken a back at the out pouring of information. He acknowledged it with a small nod and decided to arrange a drugs bust of Sherlock’s flat to repay him for upsetting Molly. 

“Well. I think that’s all the discussion the topic of Sherlock deserves. Shall we go to lunch now?”

Molly blinked at him in surprise.

“You still want to go to lunch?”

Mycroft decided to add a power cut to the inconveniences his brother was about to face.

“You did suggest lunch. I was rather hoping it was a, well a date. Did I misread your intentions?”

Various minor officials in several world governments would have paid hard cash from their personal accounts to see Mycroft Holmes looking as unsure of himself as he did at that moment. Under the scrutiny of Molly Hooper the man who had ended careers with a simple raised eyebrow was as nervous as a schoolboy.

“This is a date; a real date? Not some underhanded manipulation?”

Mycroft’s hand rose unbidden to his face, to the cheek she had slapped.

“I can assure you I have learned from my mistake in that regard. This is a real date. I would like to get to know you better.”

Molly’s lips quirked into a smile and hope bloomed in Mycroft’s reportedly frozen heart.

“I’d like that too.”

Mycroft offered her his arm and smiled happily when she took it. 

 

Later that night Mycroft’s phone chimed and a shark like grin spread across his features as he read the caller id.

_Why is the electricity out in my flat? –SH_

_Karma brother mine. – MH_

_You don’t believe in karma. – SH_

_Oh and Lestrade is here for a drugs bust. Did your ‘date’ go that badly? – SH_

_My date is my business. Perhaps in future you should tame that vicious tongue. – MH_

_What are you playing at Myc? – SH_

_I’m not playing, Sherly. – MH_

There followed a long pause, which wasn’t unexpected since Sherlock had the fine officers of NSY to berate as they rummage through his belongings. Mycroft was pleased by the next message, surprised, but pleased.

_I’ll be nice to Molly. Make sure you do the same brother mine. – SH_

_And for God’s sake buy her some flattering clothes. – SH_

Mycroft snorted and make a note to buy Molly the brightest jumper he could find.


End file.
